Legends of the Spiral
by BuBuWinter
Summary: We all know the hero who saved the Spiral from Malistaire's evil clutches and stopped the villain known as Morganthe, but what of the other legends? What of the tales and lore that existed long before this hero was even born? There's more than one story, more than one hero. Who said dead men tell no tales?


_**AN: (You're welcome to skip this, though it may be of some use) **_**I**** meant to only have one story to update, then I wrote Cherry Blossom, and now this...I'm such an awesome goal keeper xP. Anywho, this story isn't going to be a novelization like my other two. This one is going to be going more in-depth of legends and lore I introduce every so often in my stor****ies, just so any of my readers, old and new, can get a better feel on *my* Spiral. I'll have a short summary, a 'story of mention'(meaning it also has a part in one of my other stories) and info you need to understand the story. Now, ENJOY!**

**Summary: The young children of Captain Deadlock never knew their father. He died just before they were born. They want to learn, though. They want to know his legacy and how he almost changed the stereotype of Necromancers, and the act that broke that change.  
**

**Story of Mention: The Lightning Gaze (Heat owns Deadlock's cutlass, and we learn just a bit more about its former user. We also meet a possible distant relative)**

**Things to Know: Matka - Czech for 'mother'**

** Adar - Elvish (Tolkien) for 'father' **

** Necro/thaugy - Necromancer/Thaumaturge **

**(Alliith Elves *half-elven in this story* is a dying race in the Spiral. They are basically long-eared elves that are more human than mystical *like fire-elves are mystical, Alliith are not* Zoe is half-elven in this, making the kids have some sort of elvish too. This story takes place 1000 years before the Malistaire quest-line.) **

**Deadlock's Legacy**

Two young kids, a girl and a boy, huddled by the fire, pale hands outstretched towards the open flame as they sought its warmth. Klathis, the boy, glanced over at his sister Jay. She was oddly quiet, though Klathis knew the reason why. _Mother's still sick, _he thought sullenly. _And she won't come out with us. _

There was another thing on his mind though, something he felt for selfish, yet necessary reasons. Jay looked up at him, golden eyes flickering in the dim light. She was thinking the same as he was, and as if they had made a silent agreement, they stood from their spots by the fire. Gold eyes met red, and nodding the twins turned away from the warm fire, beginning to make their way toward an old, tattered tent. As soon as they walked away, the cold night air brushed harshly at their skin. Klathis was unaffected by it, and silently he thanks the Giants for his Thaumaturge blood. Jay, on the other hand, was trembling greatly.

"I don't want to do this, Kal," she whispered, her voice shaky as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her small frame. "It's cold out, and Mother's sick. We should let her rest, not bug her about it till she's well,"

"But I want answers," Klathis moved on ahead as his sister slowed her pace, her gold eyes wide.

"Why do you want to know so badly though?"

"It's our right," His red eyes twinkled as he looked to the moon, full and casting its silvery shadows on the earth. He'd heard the rumors of how free speech was becoming law on a great many worlds, Grizzleheim being one of them, which they'd been camping on for near two weeks. He felt entitled to know what he wanted regardless of how his mother was feeling. Jay sighed and glanced behind her. The fire still flickered, warm and welcoming, but she understood how her brother was feeling, and not wanting to stay out in the wilderness alone, she followed him quietly. Klathis shot her a reassuring glance. "It'll be alright, Jay. I been rehearsing what I need to say for months now."

Jay highly doubted that.

"Besides, don't you wanna know more 'bout father?"

Jay never gave it much thought.

"I only hear him from the tales of Mother's crew, but never from her own lips. Don't you think that's a bit odd?"

Jay didn't mind the tales, and she was sure mother had her reasons. Upon receiving no response other than a wide-eyed look, Klathis scowled and stopped at the tent's entrance. He muttered something that Jay swore was a prayer to the Giants before making his way inside. Again Jay glanced at the fire, to the tent, and back again. Sighing and shaking her head, she followed her brother inside.

Klathis stared about the large tent. There was a pile of silvery-white mithril armor, two short swords and a few daggers strewn about, and a pale-skinned, orange haired figure hiding underneath some thin cloth blankets. Klathis took a deep breath, biting his lower lip in the process. _Maybe Jay's right. Mother looks worse..._ he thought with a twinge of pain.

_Klathis please let her be, _Jay thought desperately, leaning closer to her brother, her arm brushing his. Shaking his head decisively, Klathis continued on to his mother, kneeling down besides her with his hands folded neatly in his lap. Jay mover onto her other side, grabbing a soaked cloth and gently wiping sweat from her mother's forehead.

"Matka," Klathis murmured, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. "Matka, how are you feeling?" Bright golden eyes that often reminded Jay of shining doubloons opened slightly, and she slowly turned her head to address her son.

"Klathis..?" she murmured weakly, reaching up a small hand and running her fingers along his cheek. Klathis heard Jay wince. Their mother was far from the brilliant warrior she once was. She would always be the legendary Cat-Eye Zoe, but even she would eventually pass on. "Yes, I'm fine dear...is there something you need...?"

"Matka, I-" the words were stuck on the tip of his tongue, and in his mind he began to panic. Just as Jay had thought, he hadn't rehearsed what to say at all. "What...who..."

"He wants to ask about Adar," Jay whispered, continuing to wipe the sweat from her mother's forehead. Klathis looked at her sharply, embarrassed his sister - who previously wasn't at all interested in the subject - told her what he wanted to ask. "He wants to know his legacy,"

That part, Klathis was sure, was what _she _wanted to know. While her gaze was focused completely on their mother, Klathis could see the hint of curiosity. Not only was their half-elven blood making them more and more curious, a part of Klathis knew that his twin wanted to know their father's legacy more than anything. All young Necromancers did. A clearness sparked in Zoe's eyes as they mentioned her would-be husband, and she let out a sigh, her voice regaining some of its former strength.

"Only a matter o' time before I'd hear ya ask that question," she murmured drowsily, slowly sitting herself up. Jay moved to make her lie down again, but Zoe just shook her head, leaning softly against the tent wall. She glanced over at Klathis. "Is what your sister says true?"

"It is," Klathis found himself nodding vigorously, his hands sweating and his heart racing as he would finally learn about his father.

"Tales don't suit you then, eh? Very well, my child, I'll tell ya 'bout your father," Zoe paused, her eyes staring off at some distant memory. "I'll tell ya the story that both made and ruined him."

* * *

"It started when our ship crossed the path of Rubyshire, a long-time enemy of your fathers. Captain Deadlock, with eyes of a bloody aurora, called the attack. Thousands of canons fired at once, making the very air seem to shake with an unseen energy and tremendous power. Plumes of orange-red flames flung themselves at our ship, destroying many pillars and catching various parts aflame. Every time they sparked I and a few other of our Necros who weren't busy with our canons would put them out. Icy winds and silvery-black waves poured down on any flame that dared spark our ship. Pyros are strong, don't get me wrong, but sometimes their flame's justa candlelight."

"Your father was an intimidating man to look at. Standing well over six foot high he had skin as pale as a Frost Giants and hair the color of a raven flying in a moonless night. His eyes were like freshly-spilled blood, flickering in varying shades of crimsons and scarlets. Just looking at him could send those less experienced crawling back to their mothers. He was a Necro of pure strength, skilled with a blade and more so with Death. His cutlass at his side was crafted by thee finest smiths Celestia has ta offer, enchanted with enough Necromancy that a simple touch can tear away the skin of its foe. Your father was convinced it had a will of his own, an energy that controlled his very actions at times, but none of us believed it."

"When the flames of the enemies became too much for our weary men to continue putting them out one by one, I approached your father, telling him of the situation involving mana depletion and burning flames. It was then Captain Deadlock decided it was time to board anotha ship: Rubyshire's. We had Bombart chop down an odd pillar that was...uncomfortably close to the edge of the ship, a pillar your father later explained to me that was built to create a make-shift bridge. It crashed down, landing squarely atop of the Pyros' master ship. Being the swiftest of the crew, your father told me to go first."

"The Pyros on the other side of the bridge were very much surprised to find that it was a woman taking the first attack, moreover a petite Thaugy, but you've already hear my own tales of grandeur. You want ta know about what your father did."

"I didn't see him in the thick of battle, but as things began to taper off I caught a glimpse of him standing eye to eye with a young lad, a teen with the brightest green eyes I've ever seen. They exchanged a few words, clashed swords a few times, and that was it. Your father flung the boys sword out of his hand, said a few words, and mercifully left to retrieve the weapon. By then I was close enough to hear what he said next: 'Fight like a Necro, boy. Fight with honour,'. He handed the boy back his sword, and they stared at each other, green eyes meeting red, before the boy ran off and fled atop a monstrous Dragon. This, my children, would be only one of many honourable things your brave father did in his time."

"That's not the end of this tale, though. When the battle against Rubyshire's pawns was won, your father went into the Captain's cabin to confront his long-time enemy, cutlass in hand and a calm sinister in his eyes. I waited and waited for the sound of yelling men and clashing steel from the inside, but none came. Concerned about the well being of my beloved I went in to look. What I saw was what ultimately changed your father's legacy...for the worse."

"You see, it has always been his dream to change the stereotype of Necros, and he went after that dream faster than a Dragon trailing a Ice Cat. This goal was eventually seen in the eyes of many as the Legacy of Deadlock as he was very successful in pursuing his dream. During this specific battle, however, Deadlock's thirst for revenge got the better of him, and he slew an unarmed man."

* * *

The kids stared at their mother wide-eyed with shock. Zoe allowed them time to process this knowledge, her golden eyes staring off in the distance as she recalled the rest of the memory, the parts she dared not tell her children. Klathis looked deep in thought, his face contorted in both awe and shame. Jay, on the other hand, seemed confused, terrified even.

"So...so Necros really are bad?" she whispered, her voice cracking mid-sentence. Zoe frowned and pulled her daughter closer, running a hand through her short, fiery-red hair and kissing her forehead.

"No dear, it's just what everyone believes. What truly makes a wizard isn't their blood-magic, but how they use. Yes, your father's legacy was crushed by that one selfish act, but remember the boy with the bright green eyes. Your father let 'em go because he knew he deserved to live a full life. He spent the rest of his life tryin' to rebuild his honourable name, but his life was cut too soon, and that never happened."

Klathis and Jay glanced at each other. They were born shortly after their father's supposed demise, and now that they knew what a complicated yet good man he was, they suddenly missed him. They missed the man they would never know as a father. Zoe kissed both of them once again, Jay on the forehead and Klathis on the cheek. "Leave me, my dears. I need rest,"

Klathis nodded, and he helped his sister up before leading the way out. "Oh, and kids,"

"Yes, Matka?" Klathis asked, a hand on Jay's shoulder as he looked at his mother curiously. Zoe's eyes held a fierceness that neither of them thought they'd see again.

"Fight with honour. Fight like a Necro."

**_AN: 'Fight with honour, boy. Fight like a Necro' remains to be one of my favorite quotes I ever created. Just wanted to say that. ^^_**


End file.
